


The Costume Party

by fuzzballsheltiepants



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunken Flirting, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Modern Era, first attraction, naive elain archeron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 10:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12746208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzballsheltiepants/pseuds/fuzzballsheltiepants
Summary: Elain meets an appealing stranger at a club Halloween party.  (Loosely related to Just Once. (Maybe Twice.))





	The Costume Party

Elain adjusted her kitten ears so they were level and fluffed out her hair.  Turning around, she cranked her head so she could check her tail over her shoulder.  She knew it was probably too cutesy for Feyre’s taste, but if they were going to drag her out to some club for costume night then she was going to wear something she was comfortable in.  Even though the close-fitting body suit accentuated her curves a little too much, at least no skin was showing.  
  
She left the bathroom and found Feyre and Mor waiting for her in the kitchen/living room of the small apartment.  Feyre looked dangerous in her artfully ragged black witch costume, her tattoos stark against her skin, her makeup accentuating the sharpness of her cheekbones and turning those gray-blue eyes into something sinister.  Mor on the other hand was going to stop traffic in her stunning devil’s costume, basically looking like a runway model for a particularly odd fall collection.  They both gushed briefly over how cute she was and then herded her out the door.  
  
Soon they were walking briskly through the streets.  Velaris was still a maze to Elain, though she’d lived her for a few months now.  She doubted she’d ever stroll the streets with the ease of the other women.  They were forces that dictated the path of those around her, while the lights, the noise, the energy of all the people constantly threatened to wash her away if she strayed from their wake.  At Rita’s Mor led them past the line and they were waved through by the bouncer, pausing for the stamp, and then she was floating again in the noise and crush of the club.  
  
Nesta was already there, having claimed them a table.  Elain found herself awed by the flapper costume her sister had donned; she looked like a 1920’s movie star, beautiful and classy and so much more mature than she was in her stupid cat costume.  She greeted them and ushered them into the booth, then it was a matter of mere moments before Rhys and Cassian appeared.  They were both dressed as bats with huge wings, making them look even bigger as they loomed over the table.  Feyre hopped up to kiss her boyfriend, while Nesta and Cassian glared their hellos.    
  
Mor rolled her eyes.  “I’m going to go get us some drinks.  What do you want?”  
  
Feyre asked for a glass of wine, and Nesta ordered something Elain had never heard of.  She cast her mind about for something innocuous.  “Can I just have an iced tea?”  
  
“Sure,” Mor said easily.  She turned to the guys.  “You two can get your own damn drinks.”  She disappeared then, weaving he way effortlessly through the dancing bodies to the bar.  Rhys dragged Feyre onto the dance floor and Elain soon lost sight of her sister, though Rhys’ head remained readily visible above the crowd. There were just so many people in such a crazy variety of costumes, she’d never seen anything like it.  They were all dancing so close, grinding against each other, men with women, women with women, men with men, all seeming to have the fog of lust on their faces, at least those who weren’t masked.  A small part of her wished she could be out there with them but…no.  She was better off here in her booth.   
  
Elain turned her attention to Cassian, Nesta’s on-again, off-again boyfriend, but he was, as usual, focused on her sister.  “Hey, Nes,” he said.  
  
‘Fuck off, asshole,” was the reply.  Well, then.  Off again, Elain presumed.  
  
He merely chuckled and slid into the booth next to Elain.  “How’s the new job going?” he asked.  Elain was surprised for a moment, having no idea Nesta had a new job, when she realized he was talking to her.    
  
“Oh!”  She felt like an idiot, her cheeks growing warm.  “It’s wonderful!  Thank you.”  In fact, her job at the Velaris University botanical gardens was the only thing the truly loved about her new life.  The rest of her constantly longed for the peace of her father’s country house, for Graysen down the road, for their quiet sedate parties and decorous dancing…  She mentally shook herself and cast about for something to say.  “Where’s Azriel tonight?”  
  
Cassian shrugged his huge shoulders.  “He said he had to work.  My guess is he had a date and didn’t want to subject the poor creature to all of us.”  Elain’s attention wandered a bit as her two companions began their usual verbal sparring.  She saw Mor up at the bar, talking to a tiny black-haired woman in a long black cape.  The woman turned in their direction then, and Elain caught her breath; her face was stunning, with perfectly molded features and delicate lips like the porcelain dolls she had cherished as a child, and her eyes…they were swirling silver.  
  
“Who is that talking to Mor?” she asked abruptly, interrupting Cassian mid-sentence.  He looked over and gave a small shudder.    
  
“That’s Amren,” he said.    
  
“Is she a friend?”  
  
“Hardly.  Well, she’s a friend of Rhys.  Not really of anyone else, she’s a real man-eater.”  
  
Elain’s brow wrinkled a little.  “What does that mean?”  
  
“It means he fucked her once and she was the one who walked away after,” Nesta interjected.  
  
Cassian laughed and shook his head.  “Hell, no, I never tapped that.  She’d chew me up and spit out my bones.”  
  
She watched the tiny woman for a moment.  Even though Mor’s statuesque figure towered over her, Amren was clearly unimpressed.  “Are those her real eyes?” she blurted out, then flushed beet red.    
  
He nodded, unfazed by the stupidity of her question.  “Yeah.  Freaky, aren’t they?”  The music changed and he turned his attention back to Nesta.  “C’mon, Nes, come dance with me.”  She merely looked at him, expressionless face speaking volumes.   “Pleeeease?”  
  
“I. Said. Fuck. Off,” Nesta replied.    
  
“But this song is great,” he wheedled, standing and holding out his hand.   
  
“I’m not leaving my sister here alone to go be annoyed by your ridiculous dancing.”    
  
Recognizing this as Nesta-speak for “I’d like to but I’m worried about my naive little sister,” Elain interjected then.  “Oh, I’ll be fine.  Feyre’s right over there, Mor will be back in a moment.  Go ahead.”  Nesta studied her for a moment, and Elain put on her best, “I’ve got this” face.  Rising in a fluid movement, her sister let Cassian take her hand and lead her onto the dance floor, allowing Elain to turn her attention back to the fascinating woman by the bar.  
  
*****  
  
Amren couldn’t help but notice when Mor entered the club.   Everybody noticed.  As usual she had a small collection of groupies, though this time it seemed to be just two.  No, there was a third waiting for them.  They all looked like variations on a theme, tall fair curvy girls with golden-brown hair; she recognized one of them as Mor’s roommate, and would’ve bet her favorite ruby necklace that the other two were related to the roommate.  Rhys and his lapdog Cassian appeared out of nowhere to join them almost immediately, Rhys dragging the roommate out onto the dance floor.  Hmm.  Looked like those rumors were true.  But the relatives - sisters, probably - were lovely too.  Especially that adorable one in the kitten costume.  
  
Mor appeared near her at the bar and placed her order while Cassian appeared to be yapping at the flapper girl.  Leaving the kitten un-paired, evidently, since as far as she knew Mor was still with Andromeda, or whatever her name was.  Amren’s lips curled into a smile, revealing just the tips of her fangs as she glided over to Mor.  
  
“Well, Morrigan, it appears you’ve found another delicious tidbit,” she drawled.  “I just love the little kitten outfit.”  
  
Dropping her chin, Mor glared down at her.  “She’s off-limits, Amren.  She’s Feyre’s sister, and she just got dumped by her fiancé.  I can’t have you screwing with her head.”  
  
“Who would dump a pretty little doll like that?”  
  
The tall girl snorted.  “An asshole who couldn’t get over the fact that Elain at twenty two wasn’t as submissive as she was at eighteen, that’s who.”  
  
“Pity,” Amren intoned sarcastically, tapping her nails against her glass.  The girl was looking at her now, a slight flush on her face, the delicate color enhancing her classic features.    
  
“And what she doesn’t need,” Mor growled, “is to get yanked around by someone just when she’s getting her feet under her.”  The drinks appeared, and Mor picked up the small tray.  “Besides, she’s straight.”  
  
Amren looked back at the girl, now alone in the booth, still staring at her.  “You sure about that?” she called at Mor’s departing back.  The only sign she had been heard was the middle finger, with its perfectly decorated nail, extended behind said back.  
  
*****  
  
“Sorry that took so long,” Mor said, handing Elain a tall glass with a straw and a wedge of lemon impaled on the rim.  “I got ambushed by one of Rhys’ friends.”    
  
“No problem,” Elain smiled.  “Thanks for the tea.”  She took a sip.  It didn’t taste quite like the tea she brewed herself, but she’d had worse in restaurants.  Mor set out the rest of the drinks and started on her glass of wine.  Feyre and Rhys reappeared and slipped into the booth, Feyre grasping for her wine like it was some life-saving brew.  Elain had never liked wine, and she shook her head indulgently at the two girls as they drained their glasses.    
  
“Hey, there’s Andromache,” Feyre said, and Mor leaped up like she’d been hit with a cattle prod and scurried over the greet her girlfriend with a generous kiss.  It had never been like that with Graysen; always simple, polite pecks on the cheek in public, never seeming too eager or attached.  Always the fear of being improper.  At least until they were alone.  Elain scanned the crowd looking for that lovely tiny woman, but she seemed to have disappeared.  Nesta and Cassian were locking lips on the dance floor, pressing against each other as they moved.  She blinked hard, trying to blink away her envy at their closeness.  
  
Rhys and Feyre chatted lightly about their plans for the holidays while she slowly sipped at her tea.  It seemed to get better as she drank, and she wondered if it was something they brewed in-house or if they bought it pre-made.  Before she knew it, there were simply empty ice cubes rattling in the bottom of the glass and that sad chunk of lemon.  
  
“I’m going to get some more tea!” she announced loudly, and Feyre and Rhys looked at her with odd expressions.    
  
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Feyre said, brow furrowed for some reason.  “Just be careful.”  Elain nodded - it was so sweet for Feyre to worry about her - and stood, wondering what had happened to the floor.  This must be some special feature of the club, she thought as she made her way through the crowd, a floor that tilts to give the dancers a thrill.  No wonder Feyre had been concerned.  The floor leveled out before she reached the bar and she asked the very nice lady who was serving drinks for another iced tea.  While the woman poured it, she turned back to watch her sisters.  Rhys and Feyre were making out now in their booth, and Nesta and Cassian seemed to have disappeared altogether.  Mor and Andromache were dancing together, their blonde heads close, drawing envious looks from everyone around them as they moved perfectly in sync.    
  
Sighing as she turned back to the bar, she was startled to see the lovely woman from before just a couple seats down.  She picked up her drink, and debated whether to go back to the booth and interrupt, or be brave and introduce herself.  Then the woman looked up and silver eyes met brown, and Elain’s decision was made.  She slid onto the stool next to the woman and leaned in so she could be heard over the music.  “Hi.”  That doll’s mouth curved up into a smile, and holy crap, she had actual fangs.  “I’m Elain.”  
  
“Amren,” the other woman said, and oh, that voice.  It was deeper than it should have been, sultry and smooth, like a singer.  
  
“I know.”  Amren smiled more widely at that.  “I asked Cassian about you.”  Elain’s mouth was suddenly dry, her heart pounding in time with the music, and she drank a little more of her tea.  
  
“Oh?  And what did that dog have to say?”  
  
Elain was a little confused; Cassian was dressed as a bat, not a dog, but she shook it off.  “He said…” She thought for a moment, head beginning to throb with the effort, “I think he said you’d chew him up and spit out his bones.  Yeah, that’s it.”  She sucked down the last of her tea, disappointed to hear the rattle of the cubes again.  
  
Amren snorted, and even that noise was like music.  “And what did you think of that assessment of my character?”  
  
“I liked it,” Elain said with a conspiratorial wink.  
  
One perfect eyebrow quirked.  “Did you now.”    
  
“Oh yeah, I’m totally into cannibalism.”  Amren’s jaw dropped, revealing perfectly white lower teeth between those pointy fangs, and Elain felt compelled to clarify.  “Not that I’ve ever, you know, eaten someone myself.  But I can imagine it’s very tasty.”  
  
Surprised laughter burst from Amren’s throat.  “You’re killing me, girl.”  
  
“Oh, no, no,” Elain said solemnly, shaking her head, “I don’t want to do that.  You’re too pretty.”  She covered her mouth with her hand then, but it was too late; the damning words were out.  
  
Amren’s silver gaze flicked to Elain’s mouth, then back up to her eyes.  “You think I’m pretty?” she said, quietly enough that she could barely be heard.  Elain nodded dumbly.  Amren leaned in even closer, so they were sharing breath, noses nearly touching.  “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”  
  
Elain’s breath caught in her throat.  She had only ever kissed Graysen, and this confident woman was nothing like him.  Despite her refined beauty there was something fierce, something wild prowling beneath her skin.  Something was stirring in her own core in response, her body wanting to cry out in harmony with that alluring, slightly husky voice.    
  
“Yes,” she breathed, but before she could close that distance she felt something else roiling in her abdomen.  Pulling back abruptly, she squeaked out, “I’ve just gotta go do something first,” and bolted off the stool.    
  
*****  
  
Amren shook her head as she slipped off the stool and followed the bobbing cat tail towards the bathrooms.  She wasn’t surprised the lovely girl was a lightweight, and after all, Long Island iced tea was not a drink to be underestimated.  She pushed her way through the crush of women gathered by the bathroom and found Elain on her knees in front of a toilet, hair clinging to her face, kitten ears askew.  Reaching forward, her fingers gently brushed the long golden brown waves back out of the way and she waited patiently for the retching to stop.    
  
“What the hell is going on here?” demanded a sharp voice from above her.  Looking up, she saw one of Elain’s sisters looming, hand on her hips.  Behind here were the other sister - Mor’s roommate - with Mor and Mor’s girlfriend Androgen (or whatever).  She felt Elain stir beneath her hands, and stood up to give her some space.  The poor girl just twisted around to see what was going on, eyes bleary.    
  
Amren stalked to the sink and dampened a paper towel, and handed it to Elain so she could wipe her face.  She craned her neck to look the gray-eyed girl straight in the face.  “I was chatting with Elain here and she was taken ill, so I followed her in to help her.”  
  
The girl crossed her arms and glowered down at her with narrowed eyes.  “You were chatting.  Right.  Is that the new word for drugging someone so you can take advantage of them?”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?” Amren snapped, bristling and stepping into the taller girl’s space.  The other girl took an involuntary step backward before straightening and clenching her hands into fists.  Mor and her roommate rushed in then, getting between them.    
  
“Let’s all calm down,” the roommate said.  “Elain is fine, Nesta, she’s fine.”  Still on the floor next to the toilet, Elain nodded.  “I’m sure this lady here was just trying to help.”  
  
“Oh, you and your Disney attitude can go to hell, Feyre,” the other girl - Nesta - snarled in reply.  “Elain ordered iced tea.  She wouldn’t be in this condition if someone here hadn’t slipped something into her drink.”  The glare she directed at Amren wanted only laser beams to be fatal.   
  
Amren laughed.  She couldn’t help it.  She laughed long and loud right in Nesta’s face.  Concern warred with amusement on the expressions of the other girls, and Elain just sat there, slack-jawed.  “Iced tea?” she chortled, once she had recovered the power of speech.  “Have you ever ordered iced tea in a club like this?”  She knew from Nesta’s glare that she had no clue, but Mor, the roommate, and the girlfriend all had looks of dawning comprehension.  “Let’s see, iced tea here consists of vodka, triple sec, tequila, rum, and Coke.  There might be some more liquor in there too, I don’t remember, but it sure as shit isn’t tea.  So don’t blame me because you girls are fools.  Take your poor sister home and stay the fuck away from me.”  
  
She swept out of the bathroom then, and the crowd parted around her to ease her passage to the door.  Slipping through into the crisp fall air, she spit out her fangs and tucked them in her pocket, wrapped her cloak around her and started heading towards her apartment.  She made it about half a block before she stopped and leaned back against the brick.  Damnit.  Elain had been so sweet, so earnest.  She had thought it was sincere, thought this lovely little flower of a girl might really be into her.  She should have known better.  Closing her eyes, she rested her head on the wall and waited for the wave of grief to pass.  
  
*****  
  
Elain staggered to her feet, ignoring the hands that shot out to help her.  “Why did you do that?” she asked Nesta, who ignored her.  “You didn’t have to be so rude, she didn’t do anything wrong.”  
  
Nesta whirled on her.  “Maybe not, but she would have.  She wanted to take advantage of you.”  
  
“No she didn’t!” Elain snapped, shocking herself.  She didn’t know when that tone had ever come out of her.  “She didn’t,” she said again, more softly.  “She was nice to me.  I like her.”  
  
The laugh that came out of her sister was worse than a curse.  “She wanted to sleep with you, Elain.”  
  
“I know,” she replied, and wasn’t sure if she was more amused or saddened by the shock that flitted across the three faces near her.  “I’m not a child, you guys, and I’m not stupid, and I’m not a virgin.”  Her voice was too loud, people in the bathroom were turning to stare at her, but she didn’t care.  “I went to college, and I was engaged.  But I didn’t know that wanting to sleep with me was…” She struggled to find the right word.  “Was a crime.”  
  
“It’s not,” Feyre rushed to assure her, “not at all.  We just didn’t want you to feel…pressured.  And since you’re not used to alcohol, maybe you’re not thinking clearly?”  
  
Elain wagged a finger at the two Feyres now standing before her.  Huh.  When she closed one eye it was back to just one Feyre, so she stayed like that.  “I don’t feel pressured.  And I thought Amren was pretty before I had anything to drink.  I didn’t know you could get drunk on iced tea but I still thought she was pretty.  And she thought I was pretty.”  She wasn’t sure where she was going with this but it seemed like she couldn’t stop there.  “We’re both pretty,” she added lamely.    
  
Nesta made an exasperated noise.  “Yes, yes, you’re both pretty.  Now let’s get you home.”  She wrapped an arm around Elain’s shoulders and began leading her forward.  Once they were out on the main floor of the club, though, Elain planted her feet.    
  
“No.”  
  
“What,” Nesta said flatly.  
  
“I want to say good night to Amren.”  Nesta grabbed her arm and started to tug on her, but Elain stood firm.  Though they were about the same height, her sister was more slight than she was, and Elain was strong from years of working in the gardens.  Feyre stood on her tiptoes and scanned the crowd, looking for that shiny black hair.  
  
“I don’t see her, honey.  I think maybe she left.”    
  
Rhys and Cassian materialized out of thin air, looming over all of them.  Elain craned her neck to look up at them.  “You’re tall.”  They looked down at her with identical expressions of concern, then looked to her sisters.  Feyre shrugged.  
  
“Er, do you guys need help?” Cassian asked.  
  
“We’re looking for - what’s her name, Elain?”  
  
“Amren,” Elain half-shouted.  
  
Cassian flinched, but Rhys looked at her speculatively.  “Amren?  Really?  Okay.  Umm, I think she left, actually, I thought I just saw her head out that way.”  He gestured with his head towards the door.  
  
“I’mma gonna go find her,” Elain said, and began working her way across the floor that was mercifully remaining flat.  She heard Nesta start to say something, and Cassian shush her.  
  
Behind her, Mor commented, “So the lesson for tonight is, in order to find Elain’s backbone you just need to give her some vodka and tequila and whatever else is in that shit?”  
  
And Andromache answer, “I don’t know, I’ve never seen her drink soda.  Maybe it’s the Coke.”  Ignoring both the laughter and the sounds of footsteps following her she kept on her mission; it was harder than she expected to walk through hundreds of dancers.  After crashing into a few costumed couples, she made it to and through the door, a large hand pushing it open from behind her.  Once outside, she took several large breaths of the crisp air that managed to smell like fall even here in the center of the city.  Her thoughts cleared and the pounding headache eased a little.  There was movement behind her and she turned to see Cassian standing there like a bodyguard.  
  
“I don’t need you,” she said, and then winced.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”  
  
He laughed.  “No worries.  I just wanted some fresh air too.”  She doubted that, but nodded anyway and looked around for any sign of Amren.  There were still a lot of people on the streets and she couldn’t see far.  She sagged in disappointment.  Pressure began to build behind her eyes, and she dug her nails into her palms to stop herself from crying.  Then Cassian extended a long arm to point up the street, and straightening up again she looked in that direction to see a slight figure, wrapped in a cape, leaning against a building at the end of the block.  “You go ahead.  I’m just gonna stand here and breathe for a while.”  
  
She turned and headed towards that figure, feet moving faster and faster until she was nearly running.  As she got close, Amren looked up and her face brightened, suffused with light from within.  “What are you doing here?” Amren asked, her voice even more silky out of the noise of the club.  
  
“I wanted to say good night, and thank you,” Elain answered, a little breathlessly.    
  
Amren reached up and gently touched her cheek, fingers just a sweet whisper against her skin.  “I’m glad we met, Elain.”  
  
“Me too,” she said.  “Sorry I got drunk.  I’ve never been drunk before.”   
  
Amren gave a small, musical laugh.  “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”  
  
Gazing into those swirling silver eyes, Elain couldn’t help herself.  “I’ve never kissed a woman before either.”  She couldn’t believe she said it, but there it was.  One side of Amren’s mouth twitched up in a half-smile.    
  
“It’s not really any different than kissing a man,” she said quietly, holding Elain’s gaze while those fingers moved to brush against her lips.  
  
Elain couldn’t help it; she dipped her head down and pressed her mouth lightly against Amren’s.  The other woman’s lips were soft, and warm, and she tasted so sweet.  There was a flicker of Amren’s tongue against the seam of her mouth, and she opened for her.  Rather than sweeping in and claiming, demanding, as Graysen had done, Amren’s tongue played lightly with hers, leading a dance that Elain was more than willing to follow.  She didn’t know how long they stood there in the cold but eventually Amren pulled back, her eyes tear-bright as she traced Elain’s cheekbone with her thumb.    
  
I like being taller, Elain thought, resting her forehead lightly on the smaller woman’s.  “You were wrong,” she said aloud.  
  
“About what?” Amren asked hoarsely.  
  
“Kissing you is nothing like kissing a man.  It’s so much better.”  Tilting Amren’s head back gently, Elain went in for more.


End file.
